On and On
by StinatheWicked13
Summary: A long con is where you get someone to do something for you by making them think it's their idea, and that's exactly what Sam Winchester intends to do. He may not be whole, may not be the one Dean wants, but he'll have him...one way or another. Spoilers for Season 6 Dean/Sam. Dark.
1. Chapter 1

On and On

Chapter 1: The Long Con

It was...difficult, being back...being human. Though he wasn't, not really, humans had souls, humans had feelings. All he could do was pretend. Hell, he wasn't even very good at that. Dean had seen right through it in what, a week? Two? It was almost sad how well his brother knew him. Like how he had told him he didn't sleep, now Dean made sure to sleep in his customary position, face down with his hand slid around the hilt of his knife, just waiting for one wrong move. Only it wasn't the same, because Dean never slept, not really. He was always in that twilight sleep, the one where you were too afraid to really close your eyes. Hell might swallow you up after all. That, or he supposed in this case Dean's hell on earth was him. He knew that he never slept of course, because nighttime got boring. As a matter of fact nighttime got excruciating. There were only so many informercials on fancy blenders and extreme hip hop abs that you can watch before you want to blow your brains out. So he did more constructive things, like watching Dean.

Dean doing the most basic things could grow to be fascinating. It was almost like watching a dog chase rabbits while they dreamed. He had got a puppy once, not the golden retriever in Flagstaff, but a small cocker spaniel. It had been in some small Podunk town in Maine, he had followed a group of kids to a trash yard, watching them crowd around an old refrigerator and laugh. He waited, watching them leave one by one and then making his way over. He opened it then, and the smell was...unimaginable. They had to have been doing this for months now, the sticky waxy smell of shit and decay filled his lungs, making him gag, and in the middle of it all was the puppy. The poor thing had to have been in there for days, shivering, malnourished, terrified, and close to death. He couldn't just leave it. It reminded him of himself.

He lifted the puppy into his arms, cradling it against himself as it scratched and bit at him. Sam didn't blame it. He could understand the feeling. After so many hunts when he had been thrown up against walls, or stabbed, he could never really feel safe again either. He kept that puppy in his bag for days, fed it scraps he managed to get out of the diner, and it was always quiet. Even in the car it never made a whimper, never made a sound. It knew he had rescued it, and it wouldn't turn on him again. You can't buy that kind of loyalty.

Sam made it almost two weeks before their father found out. They had stopped for gas somewhere outside Arkansas, and he was hiding behind the station, letting the pup pee and giving it water. His father had seen and blew a gasket, saying how it could have harmed his precious Impala, and how could Sam be so reckless? Dean had just smiled at him and asked him his name. ...Needless to say that hadn't gone well. Their father had turned on him next, asking if he knew, asking if he had encouraged this recklessness. Dean had said yes, and their father had yelled some more, buying a six pack from the station and drinking it while he made Dean drive them to their next hunt. The puppy...the one who had trusted Sam unconditionally, was left there...abandoned...probably dead within the next week, and it had been yet another reason Sam had begun to utterly hate his father. ...He never took in a stray again.

Dean didn't count. Sam kept him around, yes, but he could feed himself, watch his own back...do all the things Sam had no business doing. But watching was different. Like he said, Sam loved to watch. Dean was so peaceful in sleep, he would dream sometimes, and Sam would wonder if it was about him...the other him. Sometimes he didn't have to wonder, because his face would screw up in that absolute orgasmic way and he would know. Dean was remembering. Sam remembered too. It was with those memories that he was able to fake it, not as well as either he or his brother would like, but he was still able to try.

He was watching him now. His mouth was open in a pant, slightly snoring from the cold he was getting over, cheeks tinted red. Sam found him beautiful. Can soulless monsters find things beautiful? He thought so. Or maybe this was more remembering. Sam had always thought that Dean was the most beautiful thing in existence. He was the very air he breathed, his only reason for living, his obsession. Things hadn't changed much. He was still the only thing he thought of, only now Dean didn't relent. He wouldn't touch him, hell he would barely look at him. Dean thought he was a monster, and yet he couldn't tell him to leave, because it was still Sammy. No matter how big of a lie that actually was.

"Sam...cut it out man...it's creepy." Were the rough sleep filled words uttered from the bed as Dean rolled onto his back, rubbing his palm over his face as he slowly opened his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Nearly 5:00 am." He replied back, eyes not leaving Dean's. They roamed over him, examining every inch of him and stopping at where his black t-shirt hiked up slightly, revealing a smooth spans of skin and a dark line of hair heading into his boxers. "I'm bored." He could practically feel Dean rolling his eyes.

"Well yeah dude, freaks that never sleep tend to get bored. When you start talking to a guy named Tyler let me know, that's when we really need to start worrying." Sam's mouth twitched, feeling what should have been fond amusement coursing through his veins, but was instead just a spark of memory that tickled at the deep hole inside himself.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, watching Dean shift awkwardly, and then finally sit up. "You can't keep doing this Sam." He said through a sigh. "Some of us are human. Some of us need actual sleep." He rose an eyebrow. "You remember what that is right Sam? Sleep. Something normal people do?" He rolled his eyes. "Dude be freak show, don't be freak show...but if you keep messing with me like this I'm going to crash on one of our hunts."

"I didn't wake you up." Sam tried, not feeling at all guilty as Dean practically huffed in indignation.

"Yeah, but I could feel your creepy staring from like a mile away! As far as I know you don't sparkle when you walk in the sun dude, so stop with the rapey sleep staring shit. Because I can assure you, it ain't sexy." He huffed, rubbing his thighs as he pushed himself up and grabbed the whisky bottle. Honestly, nowadays he hadn't seen Dean go a few hours without it. That must have been fun for Lisa. Hell, he had had to deal with Dean's alcoholic tendencies since he was 16 and his brother had given him a blowjob in the Impala, but Lisa...not her. This had to all be new for her. Watching him binge from 10 am to midnight, getting used to that sweet sour smell of his breath, or how you just had to look the other way when he insisted on driving. That part never mattered to him, he trusted Dean driving more drunk than most people sober, but he wondered if he had cut back for her? He wondered if he had tried to hide it, gotten the shakes. Why is it he was so apt to change for her, when he had never given a shit for him? Double standards, they'll get you every time.

"Starting a bit early, dontcha think?" He asked, watching Dean take one more gulp before spinning on him to glare.

"It ain't early Sam! Hell it's still friggin night, so no, I don't think I'm starting that early." He rubbed his face, his scruff grating against his ring. "You know maybe we shouldn't do this anymore." His voice was tired, worn, pained. If Sam could feel empathy, which he really was working on, than he would almost feel bad. As it was, he only felt pissed. Or he supposed what he remembered anger feeling like...not to mention rejection.

Sighing, he swung his legs to the side of the bed, placing his hands on his knees as he stared up at his brother. "Can't do this anymore? Can't do what? Me?" He laughed ironically. "Because I think we've already established..."

"I'm not talking about that!" Dean snapped back with, now turning to him. "I can't sleep with you anymore." At the amused look Sam gave him, he clarified. "In the same room. I'm not getting any sleep, and it's...it's weird. I hate thinking you're just here every night, staring...waiting for me like some god damn robot!"

He rolled his eyes, "Dean we don't have money for two hotel rooms every night, be reasonable."

"I've been very reasonable Sam." He bit out. "I'm letting a soulless freak ride around in the car with me and pretend to be my brother, I'm trusting him with a gun to watch my back, I'm accepting the food he hands me without automatically assuming it's poisoned." He motioned towards Sam, swinging his arm. "So Sam, I assure you, I'm trying."

Yes, Dean was always trying. That was the problem. He tried to take care of his little brother. Tried everything to keep him safe, and yet it never worked. He tried all the time when they were younger. First to keep Sam from finding out about hunting, then to teach him how to, and then finally to stop the obsession in its tracks. It hadn't worked then. Sam had weaseled his way into his brother's bed. It hadn't worked after Stanford either, not with Sam grieving and needing his brother to take care of him. But Dean has been denying him. He has been denying him practically since Ruby, only a few slip ups every now and then, and now...now he was an ice princess. He understood once he had found out he was soulless, but before that even, when he had found out he was out of the cage he was hesitant to even touch him. Maybe he sensed something even then. Sam's face darkened as he let his hair fall in front of his eyes. Or maybe, he really loved that bitch of a slut like he said.

"Well I'm trying to dude." He looked up, eyes cold as he met his eyes. "You have no idea how much I'm trying." What he wanted to do to him. The things he could imagine in his head. Yes, he was trying. He was faking it for Dean, even if his brother thought he sucked at it. He was being the best damn actor he could be.

"Yeah Sam, we're both trying...ain't that the story of our lives?" He rubbed his face, taking another pull of whiskey. "It shouldn't be this hard! You're my brother man, but you make my skin crawl." It looked like it was paining Dean to say this, and Sam had to admit, the rejection bothered him.

"Gee I'm sorry I repulse you so much." He said, knowing it was something the old Sam would say. He remembered, he remembered the feeling of never being good enough for Dean, not as slutty as his women, not as good of hunter as Dad. But he had never stopped trying, and every time Dean pushed him away, it grated at another piece of him. Maybe his soul was getting sliced down one piece at a time.

"God Sam that's not what I meant!" Dean was pacing by this time, gulping down the whiskey like it was water. "I miss my Sam." He said finally, walking over to tip Sam's face up to look at him. "My Sammy." He lashed out then, grabbing Dean's wrist as he stood up, towering over his brother as he loomed over him.

"I am your Sammy." His voice was low, dangerous. "If I were missing a kidney, would you still be so frigid...God baby it's like I killed a kid in front of you and then pissed in your cereal."

"Don't." Dean tried to rip his hand back, but Sam kept a tight grip. "Don't you dare call me that."

"I love you baby."

"Cum for me baby."

"It's not about you...I have to get away from this... baby please don't be mad."

He supposed he knew why Dean was upset. He had come to whisper the word as a term of utmost endearment, the pet name now whispered off his lips must be akin to blasphemy for his brother. "Dean..." He practically cued.

"Stop." Sam tried to drag him closer.

"Hey it's okay...Dean." He said more softly, as if talking to a horse about to buck. Dean's eyes were wild as he pulled him in, wrapping around his shoulders and holding him. "Shhh Dean...it's okay...just let me." He wrapped his arms around his brother, inhaling the smokey spice scent that was Dean. He was thrashing slightly against him, but not enough resistance to actually pull away. "I just want to hold you." A lie. He wanted to do something way more productive than that, but if this was the lie that got him to open up to him, then he would play on it, and he wouldn't get caught in it this time.

"You don't want to do shit..." Dean replied back, face buried in his shoulder, but he hadn't pulled away. "You're not feeling any of this. You don't care about me." Sam squeezed tighter, kissing Dean on the top of his head.

"Of course I care." Another lie. "I may not be able to feel Dean, but of course I care. I have my memories after all." He began rubbing soothing circles on his brother's back, slowly walking them towards the bed. "I may not get it Dean, but I know how you're feeling...and I want to make it better for you."

Dean was pressed against him, but he could practically feel him rolling his eyes. "Your seduction tactics suck. I'm not sleeping with you."

"Well look at you, jumping to conclusions. Who said I wanted to screw your old ass?" He teased, still backing them towards the bed. "I was thinking though." He said, sighing in relief when Dean allowed him to kiss his head. "That we could spend the day in bed..." When his brother stiffened he clarified. "Not that you perv. We could watch movies, order pizza, drink beer. Just hang. It feels like we haven't done it in ages."

Dean was quiet for awhile, just letting his head rest against Sam's shoulder before he swallowed, rolling it up and backing out of his brother's arms. "Yeah, not since you went to hell."

"Well, if you want to get technical...not since you went to hell. You weren't exactly ever in the hanging out mood." The drinking had been ever worse then, and every time he touched him it was like Dean's eyes went far away...back to Alistair's rack.

"If you're blaming me for that in that twisted brain of yours, think again. That bitch had you so wrapped around her finger with her pretty words and her pretty tits, that there wasn't exactly room for me." He sank down onto Sam's bed, sighing as he leaned back on the sheets. "So..." He struggled with his words, glancing to the side as he took another pull. "What do you want to watch?"

"Sam I swear to all things holy that if you don't shut your pie hole and stop quoting this movie I'm gonna kick yer tan white ass!" Dean said, turning over and smacking Sam playfully on the shoulder. Sam forced a smile, bumping elbows with him as he took another bite of pizza.

"Well than you shouldn't have brought up Fight Club earlier dude, you know it's my favorite." He liked this. Just sitting here with Dean like this. It was almost...relaxing. If he were what he used to be, he would almost say he was happy. But then he couldn't feel, and he never would be happy again.

"Yeah you and all the crazy schizos of the world rejoice." Dean took a swig of beer, grabbing onto Sam's wrist as he jacked a bite of his pizza.

"Hey!" He said, whining in the way he remembered his old safe whined in his memories. "Get your own dude! There's like half a box!" He turned, poking Dean in the side and rolling towards them. "You are such a pig!"

"And you are a pushy soulless dork who is wayyy too close to me right now." Dean replied, face smiling. "Personal bubble Sammy." He stopped there, eyes knitting together, obviously deep in thought, and when a frown creased his forehead Sam knew he had gone too far. "Dude back up." He said, no longer playing as he pushed on his brother's chest.

Sam did, sighing as he scooted to his side of the bed, running a hand through his hair. "I wasn't trying to..." He huffed. "You don't have to be like this all the time, treating me like I'm a different person. You don't like me calling you baby, well I love you calling me Sammy."

Dean turned towards him, eyes hateful. "You don't love anything." Sam opened his mouth to respond, but Dean cut him off. "No, you don't! You don't think I see what this is? You don't think I know that you're just acting here? You don't think I know what this is about!?"

"And what is this about?" Sam asked wearily, letting his head bang against the headboard.

"Getting in my pants! Because in that fucked up brain of yours you still know that sex feels good!" Sam rose an eyebrow, letting his head flop to the side. "You don't think I've noticed your hints at it? I'm not a moron Sam!"

"I never said you were." He tried, but Dean had already jumped out of the bed, pacing around the room. "Dean you're tense...you're a fucking nervous wreck and I just thought..."

"That your cock could make me all better!? Well I got news for you, no soul wonder, but the only thing your cock is going to do is make me puke up my pizza." That same rejection itched at his skin, and he narrowed his eyes, shifting on the bed.

"Do me a favor sweetheart." He said, the endearment cutting like ice. He had always used it when he was angry at Dean, throwing the nickname his brother gave all his whores back in his face. "The next time you try to lie to yourself, do a better job at it." Dean had paced close to him so he reached out, grabbing his brother's hip and dragging him close. "Me touching you would never make you sick...as a matter fact," Sam said, dragging him closer and rubbing soft circles on Dean's hip, letting his thumb hitch up his shirt to touch flesh.

"Stop it." Dean said in his commanding tone that reminded him so much of their Dad. He said it, and yet he didn't push him away, as a matter of fact, he took one step closer.

"I don't think you want me to. I think that you want me to pick you up, slam you against that wall, and fuck your brains out." Dean's breath hitched at that, pupils dilating til his eyes were almost black, and Sam didn't hesitate anymore.

He stood up, and in one fail swoop wrapped his hands around Dean's ass, hoisting as he had his brother wrap his legs around his waist, holding him up as he looked in his eyes. "I want you to kiss me." He said slowly, breath puffing out on Dean's face as he held him with no trouble at all, reaching out to cup his cheek. "Now."

When Dean leaned in and brushed his lips against his, there were no sparks, no fireworks, nothing but lips on lips that probably could do with some more chapstick. But the way Dean was grinding on him as he mashed their lips, well that felt good. He kissed his brother more deeply, easily parting his lips as he practically fucked his tongue inside. He moaned into that mouth, turning them around and slamming Dean up against the door. He still had hold of him with his thighs, and he pushed Dean's arms above him, allowing for full exploration of his body as Dean moaned and bucked against him like a bitch in heat.

Dean was reaching for his zipper, desperately trying to pop the button when Sam pulled away, smiling that fake condescending smile at him. "Wait." His forehead creased as he rested it against Dean, making his voice sound almost pained. "Wait...we can't do this." He let his brother down from the wall, not moving away from him as he continued to stroke up and down his body.

"We can't do this? Dean asked, eyebrow arching as he looked up at his brother. "Sam you have been hinting at this for months now, and you don't want to do this?" He shoved at Sam's chest, but he didn't budge.

Sam grabbed Dean's hips, holding him steady against the wall. "That's my point Dean. I don't want you to do this because you think you have to, or because you think you can fuck the soul back into me. I want you to do this because you want to, because I love you." He squeezed Dean's hips, knowing he was about to interject. "I don't feel it right now, but I remember it. I remember exactly how I feel about you, which is the best thing I can offer you right now."

"Sam my tongue was just halfway down your throat, I'm pretty sure I want this." Dean growled, pushing harder at Sam's chest as the younger allowed him to shove him away. "You don't get to do this."

"Dean, I'm not doing anything. I just want to take it slow because..." He reached out, rubbing his fingers through Dean's spikes. "Because I know you Dean, and I know that you'll be into it all hot and heavy, but tomorrow morning you're going to freak out and then it's just going to push us back to where we were...further even." He leaned in, kissing his brother's cheek. "So as much as I want to spend the entire night in bed with you, I'm going to sustain, because you don't trust me...and I need you to."

"You're unbelievable!" Dean growled, slapping his hand away. "So fucking selfish. I'm sick of the mind games. You don't always get to do this Sam!" He threw up his arms, stalking across the room to grab his coat. "Well fuck you Sam and your good intentions, because I know you ain't got none!"

He walked back towards the door, eyes hard and glassy, and looked like he wanted nothing more than to slug him in the face. "I'm just trying to make this transition as easy as I can."

"Transition?" Dean asked, tilting his head. "What transition, Sam?" He was bristling like a cat, finger itching for his gun, and Sam knew he had to talk fast.

"We had sex after Ruby, after the apocalypse, but it wasn't the same." Dean's eyes were still narrowed and cold, but his finger relaxed on the trigger. "You didn't like being in my bed...you just...you weren't there Dean. So I want you to be there this time. I want to have what we used to."

"That's over Sam." He said, voice low and corse.

"It doesn't have to be. I don't fully understand what's going on with me now Dean, but it doesn't have to be." He reached out to touch him again, and Dean flinched away as if burned, backing up at of reach.

"Get out of the way." Sam complied, backing up from the door, and Dean was gone in less than 30 seconds. He shut his eyes as he heard the familiar purr of the impala as it sped out of the parking lot. Dean was probably headed to a bar, drinking out the many questions that were no doubt buzzing in his mind. His brother was like that. So crass and outspoken about superficial matters, but anything of importance he tended to think about for days. The matter just worrying in his mind until it drove him insane, and then he would hunt something and it would make him feel better. Sam didn't mind this time, he wanted him to think. He wanted him to roll around what happened here tonight over and over in his head. He would think about how Sam had pulled away, how Sam had said I love you, how Sam wanted him...and then he would slowly come around.

He wanted to be inside his brother, more than he ever thought possible, but he couldn't get Dean by force. So he would play this charade, and he would dote, and he would lie...because this is what would get him his brother. It was called a long con, you get a person to do what you want them to with them thinking it was there idea all along, and Sam had become very good at conning. He would have Dean, and not just his body...though he desired it. He would have everything...soul included, because maybe that would make up for him not having one of his own. ...And if not, well he supposed using a bit of force wasn't out of the question. He smirked to himself, sinking back on the bed as he waited for Dean to come back to him...and rest assured, he always did.

A.N- Another fic I've had on the back burners. Obviously takes place during season 6 and I'm a sucker for soulless Sam. Up to 4 chapters so far, please review!


	2. Predictability

On and On  
Chapter 2: Predictability

The thing about Sam was that he was predictable. He always had been. He was needy, curious, stubborn, and the love of Dean's life. Dean had expectations about him, he expected him to pursue their disastrous relationship, because well…Sam had always been the one to push it. He had been like a friggin Lolita letch when he was younger, crawling into bed with him…walking into the shower with him…doing everything possible to get him to cave until he finally had, pushing the kid up against the window of the Impala and pulling his pants down around his hips. Sam had thanked him afterwards…fucking thanked him for screwing up his entire life, and of course…that was Sam.

Dean cheated on him constantly, and Sam would always forgive him. Well if you could call what they had a relationship, which Sam did. He finally did get tired of it though, of finding Dean screwing girl after girl. Sam never even looked at another person, not until after he left for the first time. Not until Jess. They had gotten back together though, and Sam no longer let him cheat. To say that was an understatement as a matter of fact, the few times he did well, Dean hadn't been able to walk for a week.

Now though, Sam wasn't predictable. He was a nightmare. The only thing that was the same about him was his stubbornness, and hell he was just as pushy as he was before they got together. Only he wasn't the same as before. He didn't get that hurt look on his face when Dean denied him. He didn't wrinkle his nose when Dean watched porn, or frown when he ate in bed. He didn't kiss his ear every night before bed and tell him he loved him. …He wasn't his Sammy. He could pretend all he wanted, but it wasn't enough. His nose didn't wrinkle when he laughed, he didn't kiss him like he was the only thing that mattered in the entire world, and Sammy always had…Sammy was predictable.

He had slipped up. He had let this Sam kiss him, and let this Sam tell him he loved him, and that he was the only thing that mattered in the world. Now he couldn't unhear it, he couldn't take back the way Sam had slammed him against the wall and Dean had kissed him with abandon. It had been a week. A week, and he couldn't forget it. They hunted, and they ate at shitty diners, and Sam looked at him, but he hadn't touched him since. Hell, they hadn't even talked about it. They hadn't talked about it because Sam, whoever this Sam was, still knew him, and he knew it would take Dean awhile to process it. He knew that if he waited long enough, Dean would give in.

"Is your burger good?" Dean was brought out of his reprieve by his brother's voice. He had been staring at the TV for about an hour now, not really seeing, and not taking more than a bite of his food. They had just killed a skinwalker, and he was feeling a little too disturbed to eat.

"Not hungry." He grumbled, turning to look at Sam who had sunk into the bed next to him. He threw the burger back into the bag and wiped his hands. He took a swig of beer, trying to coat his nervous stomach. "And how was your day sweetheart?" He teased, immediately cursing himself at the use of the familiar taunt. …Sam would definitely take it the wrong way.

"My day was good." Sam said, lying back in the bed as he pulled out a stack of papers, if he had noticed the slip, he didn't mention it. "I think I found us a new case…maybe not an alpha, but it should be fun."

Dean scanned the papers of the recent deaths; eyes narrowing towards Sam's fake grinning face. Fake grinning face that he had cleverly began to call in his head, condescending liar face. "An Asylum?"

"Yeah…just like old times." Dean hissed when a hand came to his side, sliding up underneath his t-shirt and resting just below his ribs as Sam turned over, practically rolling on top of him. "Do you remember?"

"You shooting me full of rock salt? Yeah it rings a bell." He bit out coldly, hand trying to force the one out of his shirt. "Sam stop touching me." He tried, but the hand went further up, scraping against his stomach and coming to flick at his nipple.

"I meant the other part. I felt sooooo guilty." He hummed, rolling completely on top of him so he was straddling his waist. "I said those things to you, and I had to make it up to you." Dean inhaled, closing his eyes when lips touched his throat. "It was our first time since…"

"Since you dropped me cold and ran to your apple pie life." Dean finished, eyes opening to slits, though they didn't stay that way for long when Sam's fingers twisted and his mouth latched down against his neck. "Jesus Sam…what are you doing?" He arched up against the hand, not pushing him away, not doing anything.

"Helping you remember…I've given you a week Dean. A week and I've gotten nothing." He licked at the red patch of skin. "I can't wait forever, so I found this case, because I want it to be like the last time."

…The last time. The last time Dean had been holed up on a bed, chest sore as hell from bullet wounds, and Sam stumbling in drunk and bawling. He had crawled up to him, begging for forgiveness, telling him how much he missed him, how he only ever wanted him, how he was dying without him, and then he kissed him. …Then it was the end of the world as they knew it. Hell, they practically didn't come up for air until Dean went to hell, and then well…that had stopped him cold. He was too dirty for Sam's touch, even though Sam was really the one dirtying the relationship.

"It's not going to be like last time Sam. I'm not the same, and let's not even get started on you. The feelings aren't the same…I don't…"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence." Sam hissed, hand grabbing Dean's chin. "You love me. You've always loved me. You fucked me because you did…and then you fucked me over." His other hand came down to Dean's jeans, rubbing at the slit. "So you don't get to finish that sentence because I'm not 'your' Sam, because I'm all you have and there's no other way I can be." Sam kissed him then, and Dean let him, because the kiss was predictable, and all Sam. He didn't kiss back though, because during that entire speech he had never raised his voice, hell it hadn't even wobbled, and his Sam would be screaming, he would be crying. …He would never do this to him.

Dean opened his mouth, letting Sam's tongue in as his hand came up, threading in Sam's too long hair. His mouth tasted like coffee, which was probably ordered in some extremely gay manner, and everything that was Sam. His other hand fell to Sam's hip, using his own to maneuver them and flip them over, rolling on top of his brother.

"We're not having sex." He said, breaking away from Sam as he pushed his brother back on the bed. "We're not Sam, but we can do other things."

"Yeah?" Sam said, smiling. He reached his hands behind his head, staring up at his brother cockily. "Does that mean I get your pretty mouth on me again?" He thrust up with his hips, as if to prove just how hard up for it he was…and Jesus was he hard. Not that Dean wasn't…he just wasn't being so obnoxious about it.

"No Sam, you don't get my mouth." He rolled his eyes at Sam's pout, letting his hands travel over the cocky bastard's chest. "You could be less of a perv about this you know…it's not like this is easy for me." It wasn't, but then again when Sam touched him all thoughts flew out the window. "And I want to make a few things clear…there are rules. We haven't had sex in over a year, and it's not like we were doing it good before."

"I take insult to that…" Sam teased, thrusting up again. "I remember doing you very well before." He sat up, kissing Dean again, and he couldn't help but lean into it. "Baby, stop worrying okay? We don't need rules, we just need each other. Sam and Dean…just the two of us until the wheels of the Impala fall off." Sam popped the button to Dean's jeans, hand slipping below the waistband to grab at his cock, and Dean's head rolled back in bliss. "That's it…just let me."

"Sammy…" Dean breathed out, letting a mouth fall back to his neck as a strong hand wrapped around him. "This can't mean anything. It's just sex. I have needs, and I can get them from anywhere. I'm just choosing to get them from you."

The hand inside his pants stilled, and Sam's eyes turned a new level of cold and dead. "Excuse me?" His voice was filled with what sounded like legitimate anger, and the hand around him tightened to an almost painful grip. "Just another body…that's how you're treating this? That's how you're justifying this in your mind?"

"What did you think this was?" He tried, lying to himself in his mind. "You're not my…"

A hand came up over Dean's mouth, quieting him as Sam's eyes blazed fire. "If you say Sammy, brother, or any other thing like that I will literally tie you to this bed and whip you…and I know you'd like it cause you're a slut like that." He hissed, letting go of his mouth.

"You feel like him…hell you make 'me' feel like he does, and I'm too weak to say no to you, but just know that even though I'm hard up for it and begging you, which I probably will be, I'm thinking of him, and I'm hating myself in my mind for ever letting you touch me."

He was expecting some biting remark, or more desperate kissing, but what he wasn't expecting was the hard shove in his chest as he was pushed backwards on the bed. Sam got off, adjusting himself in his pants as he ran a hand through his hair. "You don't want to be touched by me…that's fine. I can wait…I'm a patient guy." He said, rolling his forehead as he took a deep breath. "But let's just get one thing straight," He grabbed the rest of Dean's beer, chugging it down. "You so much as let another man, woman, or vegetable breathe on you, and I'll kill them." Dean's eyes widened as Sam said that as if he were ordering a pizza, no emotion, and no caring. "And believe me Dean, I won't feel guilty about it."

"…Sam?" Dean asked, sitting up on his elbow as he stared at the almost crazed look on his brother's face. "Sam we're not a couple, and hell when we were a couple you never cared…well you did, but you looked the other way."

"Oh I cared. I hated every one of those sluts you screwed, and I hated watching you fawn over Lisa, and I absolutely loathe the way that angel looks at you, but I bit my tongue, because when I push, you reject me." He shrugged. "The old me anyways…this me doesn't care." And wasn't that just the theme of the day? "I don't care about slitting someone's throat if they touch you in a way that I find inappropriate, because you are mine Dean. …I've worked very hard to get you, and I'm not letting you go just because you think I'm a different person." He grabbed his coat, shrugging it on. "Now I'm going to the library to do research, you pack up the place, and then we'll go salt and burn a ghost…sex afterwards I suppose is optional." He couldn't even hear the slam of the door over the sound of his racing heart beating in his ears.

Sam was angry, hell Sam looked furious. He didn't look cold and methodical. Hell, he had just thrown what was as close to a normal Sam fit that he thought was possible. He had turned him down for sex twice, and told him that if he got it from anyone else he would kill them. Sam cared…in his weird way he cared. He never thought that would be possible again, not until he fixed him. …He supposed that was the thing about predictability though, you can be sure someone is one way, and then that confidence can come back and bite you in the ass.  
~*~


	3. Selfish

On and On  
Chapter 3: Selfish

Selfish. That's what Dean was. He didn't know how a person could jump in front of monsters to save people, and yet wouldn't put out for his brother? Honestly, he was a replacement? As if he could ever be a replacement. As if he could ever be anything other than everything for Dean. Dean was being stubborn, he could understand that. However, now Sam was left with a serious case of blue balls, and a frustrating itch he now had to scratch. Selfish.

Now he was forced to be in a shitty bar, trolling for something to take his frustrations out on. That was the thing though, he didn't feel, not really, but the rage…even though it was numbed, it was still there. It appeared his counterpart had so much of it that not even losing his soul could douse it completely. He had gone out of his way to find that case, and Dean hadn't responded like he thought he would. He was letting him touch him though, which he supposed was progress, but he thought he was someone else. He thought that he wasn't 'Sam' and he was still letting him touch him. The whore.

Speaking of whores… "Hey there, I'm Sam." He said, extending his hand to a pretty blonde at the bar. She had a deep slitted black dress, Prada shoes, and was obviously a high-class escort. Sam just knew these things. It was something about sin; he committed them so often that he could almost sense them.

"Daphne." She replied back, sipping at her wine. She was giving him that look, the one where she was imagining him naked, and at this moment…well Sam was imagining a lot more than that.

"Daphne…pretty name." He looked down her cleavage, and all the way down to her toes. "Pretty stems too." He sat down, sliding his palm up her leg.

"Oh? Quite the charmer." She smiled back, placing her hand on top of his.

"Yeah, I guess there's that." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of twenties. "Or maybe I just know how to put my money where my mouth is." He put the wad on the table. "So what do you say sweetheart? I know you're up for it."

She raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down before discreetly taking the money. "Your place?"

~*~  
Sam ran a hand through his hair as he paced through the room, Daphne was lying on the bed, fully sated and counting her money. This…usually satisfied him. Sex felt good, he needed to feel good, and that usually sufficed. Not now though, because he was still angry, or as close to angry as he could get. He wanted to take it out on Dean, hell he wanted to smash his face into the carpet, but he couldn't, because then Dean would leave him.

"Hey cupcake, you want to go another round?" She rolled onto her stomach, swinging her legs in the sheets. "It's on the house."

He looked back at her, now feeling nothing towards her but disdain. "You know I would like to go another round, but how about this time we change it up a little?" He cooed, crawling back onto the bed. "You let me do whatever I want to you, and I'll give you $500 more, deal?" When she nodded her consent, he reached under the bed, pulling out a small blade. "I swear it'll only hurt a bit."

~*~  
"Dude, did it really take you that long to do research? And what exactly were you researching, how not to be an ass?" Dean said, throwing the bags into the trunk and getting in the passenger seat. "And since when do you drive?"

"Since I know where we're going." Sam replied, turning to give Dean a smile as he pictured how he had carved up that girl's. "Just let me drive Dean, I need to get my mind off things."

Dean knitted his eyebrows at that, not arguing as he sat in the passenger seat and cranked up the music. "Sam if you're mad about this morning…"

"I don't get mad." He shot back with, pulling onto the interstate.

Dean whistled, turning to look out the window. "No, you're just a barrel of sunshine right now." He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Look. I was thinking…I haven't been really fair to you. I mean you make my skin crawl, you're pushy, you're like a Vulcan most of the time, but you're still my brother."

"And?" Sam snipped once the words seemed to get caught in his brother's throat. Dean was obviously groveling, or as close as he could come to it, but Sam was a little too caught up in the warm gooey goodness that was that girl's insides to consider what he was saying. It had calmed him, and now he was focusing on it, because he couldn't afford to get angry with Dean right now.

"And well…let's just get through the case. We salt and burn, we get wasted, and then…well…" He took a deep breath, stealing himself. "We'll see how it goes."

See how it goes? He really was groveling. He must be feeling bad about what happened in the motel room. Sam gripped the steering wheel, stopping himself from pulling the car over and throwing Dean into the backseat, but he might smell that bitch on him. He had showered of course, he had left the room a bit…messy, but her designer perfume was still on his clothes, and he didn't want to make any mistakes. Not when he was this close to getting Dean back into his bed.

"But what you said earlier Sammy." He bit his tongue. "Sam…what you said earlier, I need you to take it back." Sam's eyes rolled over to Dean, and he had that look in his eyes…that untrusting 'you're a freak' look.

"What I said?" He asked, already knowing what he was referring to, but then again Dean needed to talk through it. That was the only way he processed things.

"Sam I know that you have the emotional capacity of a teaspoon, but you can't go around threatening to kill people. The moment you cross that line, that's when this little freak show that's been going on the past couple months ends." Sam's eyes flashed for a moment, but he took a breath, calming himself.

"You'd leave me to do this by myself?" He sped up the car, swerving through traffic. "You'd leave my soul in that cage to rot?"

"No Sam. Of course I wouldn't…I'm just trying to wrap my mind around the whole you'd kill for me thing." He accelerated more, thinking of what Dean's reaction would be if he knew just what he had done.

"I was angry." He tried.

"You don't get angry Sam. You were cold and calculated, and you meant every word of that." Dean reached out then, touching Sam's shoulder. "Hey calm down, you're going to get us pulled over."

"I'm calm Dean, I don't get angry remember?" He grabbed the hand, throwing it off his shoulder. "Don't touch me unless you're ready for me to pull over and plow you into the seat, and please don't talk right now because you're irritating…your very presence is irritating."

"Wow." Dean said, rolling his eyes. "When did you go psycho boy?" He reached between them, grabbing the files on the case. "Fine princess, throw a fit…but if I get shot with rock salt again, Imma be pissed."

They drove to Pennsylvania, to a town called Snows End. The Asylum had been closed for 20 years, and since then had had 3 mysterious deaths, and 5 disappearances linked to the place. Weird…yes. Weirder of course due to the fact that all 8 victims were in some way related.

"You know…this sounds familiar." Dean said as they walked down the town. "Like seriously familiar." Sam was walking ahead of him, blatantly ignoring him. It was working too, because there were two ways to get Dean to do something. There was the crying…which worked 100% of the time, but he was cold and dead inside so the chances of that happening were slim to none. He guessed he could pull out the eye drops, but Dean had seen his real tears enough that he could probably see through it. "Ah!" Dean cried in triumph, catching up to him. "House on Haunted Hill. That's where I've heard of this…the asylum ate family members."

The second of course was to ignore him. Dean had deep-seated abandonment issues, and the last thing he wanted in life was to lose another person. Very little people cared about Dean, in his mind anyways. Sam, well he made the top of the list, and so when he stopped talking to him, Dean would suck up like a little puppy to fix it. He had exploited it more than once, and it seemed like now was a good time to do it.

"Hey earth to Sammy, I said I know this story." He caught up to him, grinning.

"That's great. Listen I'm going to go talk to the family, why don't you go do…" He rolled his eyes, speeding up. "Whatever it is you do."

Dean stopped. "Are you kidding me?" He asked to Sam's back. "God you're an ass today!"

Sam smirked from where Dean couldn't see and kept on walking. "See you back at the motel." He gave a wave behind his back, just picturing the look of hurt that would be cleverly hidden on his brother's face. …It was almost sinfully intoxicating, and tonight, when he got back to the motel, Dean would do everything possible to make it up to him.

They weren't going to the asylum until tomorrow, and so Sam let him sweat it, he didn't come back until nearly 2:00 am. When he did he brought Dean a bottle of bourbon, not that he would need it, his brother was probably drowning in it by now.

He entered the hotel room, throwing down the keys to the Impala and stripping off his jacket, conveniently ignoring the man fuming on the bed. "I got you something." He said, not looking over as he placed the bottle on the nightstand.

"Oh, so let me get this straight, I'm not worthy enough to say two words to, but I'm worthy enough for presents." He growled, grabbing the bottle and twisting off the cap.

"Don't see you rejecting it." Sam said spitefully, grabbing the remote and switching whatever dribble Dean was watching. Sam heard the bottle slam back onto the nightstand as Dean got up from the bed, stalking over and shutting off the TV.

"Fuck you Sam! Fuck you and your soullessness, your attitude, and your cold shoulders!" He walked over, grabbing Sam's hair and yanking it back. "You think I'm worthless, than leave. Go Sam. Just fucking…"

Sam didn't let him talk anymore before lunging forward, claiming his lips. Dean rebelled at first, of course he did. He was angry, prideful, and this wouldn't be easy for him, but he would do this. Sam hissed as Dean bit his mouth, drawing blood as he struggled against the arms now wrapped around him. His fingernails scraped down Dean's back, coming down to cup his ass as he pulled him forwards into his lap. Dean tasted like beer and pizza, and everything he could remember loving about his brother, and he couldn't wait anymore. The obsession was beyond cultivating at this point, and he couldn't take it anymore.

He was ripping at Dean's clothes, tearing at his shirt as his brother finally opened that goddamn stubborn mouth of his and let his tongue inside. He hated him sometimes. Hated him beyond belief, and he knew the emotion was fake, but he remembered it. He remembered it from every time Dean would screw him, and then for the next week refuse to touch him. Every time he called him a freak. He remembered loving him more though, and that's why he was doing this. That's why he couldn't wait anymore, because he may not have a soul, but just being around Dean sometimes, made him feel like he kind of did.

"God Sam!" Dean moaned as he was flipped over, his shirt had been discarded and Sam was busy tugging off his pants and throwing them across the room. "Sam wait we can't…" He didn't let him continue, shutting him up with his lips again as he crawled on top of him. His lips fell to his neck, slipping down his boxers as he leaned up to remove his own shirt.

"No more fighting, no more anything, just me inside of you…" Sam moaned, slipping onto the floor as he pulled Dean's boxers down, looking up at him from between his legs. "God you're gorgeous. So fucking perfect." He spread Dean's legs, letting them fall to the side as he kissed along inside his thighs, loving how Dean was now moaning and compliant beneath him.

"Sammy…Sam wait…wait just a second." He breathed, grabbing at Sam's hair and trying to pull him up. "Come on I'm not saying no, just a second." He tugged on his shoulder, trying to get him back on top of him. "Just come here for a second." Sam obeyed, crawling up the other's body as his hard length pressed against his thigh.

"What? Tell me your excuses. Tell me your reasons." He moved to his ear, licking along the lobe before whispering in it. "And then I'll spread your legs anyways." He felt Dean's cock pulse against his thigh, and he reached between them to pay it some attention. "You always loved it when I talked dirty to you…I think it's the thought of your little brother's dirty mouth that turns you on." That mouth kissed him again as he grinded their bodies together.

Dean was panting beneath him when he pulled away the second time, his head lolling to the side as Sam sucked on his pulse, worrying at it until it was a deep bruise. "Sam, you know I want you. But this isn't the same as it was before." Sam tensed above him, ready to lash out, but Dean continued on. "It's not…the emotional connection isn't there, so don't fake it…and don't pretend you care how I'm feeling…just get on with it."

"Oh? So you don't care how I treat you, is that it?" He growled, grabbing Dean's ankle and forcing it up above his head and over Sam's shoulder. "You want me to make it rough and fast…use that tight little hole of yours and fill it with my cum?" As he said it he forced two fingers inside, twisting as Dean tried to role away from him. "You want me to rape you?" His eyes blazed, he had never felt anything like this…as a matter of fact he had never felt. His fingers began to thrust in and out as Dean gasped, struggling beneath him.

"Sam stop! Sam!" He did, but he didn't want to. He wanted to tear the body underneath him apart, and he wanted him to beg him for more. "Babe, please…please look at me." Dean sounded close to breaking when he reached out then, threading his fingers through his hair, as Sam's eyes fluttered to his. "That's it…good…stay with me." He leaned up then, initiating a kiss for the first time, kneading their mouths as he reached between them, grabbing Sam's wrist and pulling it out of him. "That's it…" He winced when they withdrew, but he continued kissing him. "Shouldn't have said that…didn't mean it." He kissed him harder, lowering his leg while spreading his hips, beckoning Sam in. "Want you inside me." He whispered against his lips.

Sam examined Dean's face, he looked desperate, terrified, it was breathtaking. His brother had seen something in his face then, something that made him change his mind. Something that scared him more than any monster could. "Do you now?" He breathed against his lips, scratching down his body. "Beg me then...Beg for me now." He licked at his collarbone, tasting the sweet fear on his skin as his dick began to leak, wanting nothing more than to be buried inside of Dean.

He had never thought it possible to want something as much as he wanted Dean. He wanted to hear him scream, to beg for him, to worship him. He needed to see that look on him again. Hell, he wanted to see him break. "Please Sammy…Please." …He supposed begging was good enough for now.

Dean's eyes were far away as he slunk back down, crawling between his legs. "Dean…look at me." He didn't. He just turned his face away as Sam kissed at his thighs. He hated this. He used to know Dean, knew everything about him. It was almost as if he could read his mind, and now…now he didn't know what was going on in his head. He had an idea of course. He knew that his brother's brain was going a million miles a minute, trying to decide if this was a good idea…if he should do this. He was trying to decide if this was like cheating, or if this would change everything. The thing he couldn't tell though was what the answers were, and if Dean would once more be stubborn and pull away in the morning.

He leaned in, mouth swirling around Dean's dripping erection, tongue playing with the slit as his fingers came down, grabbing at the lube in his pocket and coating them. Dean was moaning like a whore beneath him as he sucked, and then with almost a breath of elation he pushed a finger past the tight pink ring, hearing those moans turn into curses. He was tight…hell no one had been inside him in over a year. This was going to be beyond amazing. He smirked around his cock as he unzipped his pants.

Sam worked him open, mouth slurping along him as he saw Dean's toes curl. Now that he knew. It happened every time Dean came, his toes would curl and then he would shoot. He pulled away, hearing Dean's protests as he withdrew his fingers. "Uh uh uh baby…you're going to come with just me in you."

"When did you become so sadistic?" Dean growled, but then rolled his eyes as Sam crawled back up his body. "Oh wait, I remember…about the time you decided to turn into the terminator." Sam kissed him again, and he kissed back as he positioned himself at his entrance. "Sam don't just…"

He pushed in to the hilt, and Dean squeezed around him, obviously trying not to scream. He practically sucked him in as he pushed, creating that perfect tightness surrounding him that he had only felt with Dean. "You're so tight." He moaned, kissing Dean's ear as he tried to adjust. "Always so perfect for me."

"Sam…" Dean said, turning his face. "Shut up…just…shut up for once." He grunted as Sam pulled out, slamming back in as his body thrummed with pleasure. "Holy shit I forgot how…" The words were trapped in his throat apparently as his eyes rolled backwards between thrusts.

"Do you remember our first time?" Sam breathed into his ear, taking it nice and slow once Dean actually cried out, knowing he had found his center. "You were so scared…touching me like I was glass." He bit Dean's shoulder, loving the flavor that covered his tongue. "You slid inside me so slowly, kissing me like I was the only thing that mattered…I came so fast…spewing how much I loved you." He screwed up his face, curling his nose as he nuzzled it into Dean's. "And then you threw up all over me." He said with fake disgust, actually causing Dean to laugh, before he gasped again as Sam thrust right into his prostate.

"You deserved it…getting me drunk and then making out with Susie Calaman, you're lucky I didn't tan your hide." His eyes shut as he tried to reach between them, grabbing for his neglected dick.

"Spanking…kinky. We'll have to try that next." Sam slapped Dean's hands away, denying him. "You're coming with just me inside you, remember?" He sped up his thrusts, pushing into Dean over and over again until his toes began to once more curl. "So come!" He commanded, and Dean shot between them, yelling 'Sammy' as he did.

Dean was boneless beneath him as he continued to thrust, pulling out only to flip him over and get a better angle. "Been waiting for this for so long…never letting it go." He growled, biting into his shoulder as he finally came, hand wrapped securely around Dean's cock as he helped him through his orgasm before collapsing on top of him. His mind was a hot haze of pleasure, the kind he got only from killing or screwing, and in this moment he really felt alive.

Sighing, Sam rolled over onto his back, placing his hands behind his head as he panted, watching Dean roll over so that his back was facing him. He was shaking, but Sam decided not to comment. He had to deal…he knew that. Besides he really didn't want the emotional drama. It was awful when Dean broke down and cried. Plus, he really didn't want him feeling so bad about this that he threw up again, that was bad enough the first time, and then he had actually cared enough them to help him clean it up.

"Do you want me to go to the other bed?" He asked the ceiling, staring up at it in triumph. Dean looked close to breaking, and all he could feel was satisfaction. …His other self would probably be so disappointed, but then again he supposed that was why 'Sammy' was in hell, and he was out roaming around and fucking his brother.

Dean was quiet for almost ten minutes, before finally clearing his throat. "Sam, when has what I wanted ever mattered to you?" He supposed that was as close to permission as he was going to get. Sam rolled towards him, grabbing the sheet and pulling it over them both as his palm stroked down his side.

"You know if I didn't push you nothing would have ever happened between us, right?" He kissed his shoulder blade. "Not then, and not now…but it'll get better, I promise. It always does." Soon he would have Dean begging for him every hour of the day. Begging for him…not for 'Sammy'…him. Dean was shaking even worse now, and he knew that if he were facing him there would be silent tear tracks sliding down his cheeks. "You're so beautiful." He practically cooed, curling up closer behind him as he held him through his tears. "Try to sleep Dean…try not to think about it." He held him for almost 3 hours, until twilight was beginning to poke through the blinds and he finally fell asleep…and then he turned on Sports Center. If Dean was going to be like this every time, he was going to have to start drugging him.


	4. And They Were All Yellow

On and On  
Chapter 4: And they were all yellow

"Dean…my Dean…my everything." Sam kissed his way down his chest as his hands were bound on either side. "I love you, my pretty little hunter." He taunted, coming up to his face, trailing the thin butterfly knife up his body as he went, making feather light slashes against his flesh. "All tied up and nowhere to go." He hissed as Sam drew patterns on his chest, leaning in to lick up the blood as he did.

"Go fuck yourself Sam!" Dean hissed, causing the tongue licking along his flesh to dig into his skin." He cried out at the pain from the wound, as he thrashed in his bindings.

"Even after all this time…you still have some spunk in you." He teased, looking up and flashing his yellow eyes. "Perhaps killing some more of your friends will do the job this time." He leaned in, kissing at his face with blood stained lips. "Bobby this time?" He licked his lips, using his arm to wipe his blood-smeared face. "Or maybe Cas, he would be so very…very fun to play with."

"You don't have to do this Sam." Dean tried, the hefty plea he'd been trying for months to no avail. "You can go back to the way things were…I'll be there for you…I'll do anything."

Sam actually laughed at that. "This tired line again, baby?" He kissed him on the lips as Dean jerked his head away. "You should have thought of that ages ago when you made me what I am…now Dean…it's far too late." His eyes practically shone with that hateful yellow glint. …Oh yes, it was far too late.

~*~  
Dean jerked awake, groaning as he rolled over in the bed, burying his face in the pillow. That fucking dream again. Not always the same, but with the same theme. Sam…and those fucking eyes. He had been having it for weeks now, ever since that day in the motel when he had finally given in to his brother, and now it was all he could ever think about. It was because of those damn eyes that he had said yes in the first place when all he had been screaming was 'no no no'

He had seen something in Sam's eyes then, well beyond the crazy madness, although that was present as well. In his anger, that shouldn't even exist in a soulless being, his eyes had flashed…and they had flashed yellow.

He didn't know why they had, only that they had. It seemed even after four years they couldn't escape that yellow-eyed son of a bitch. He had poisoned Sammy when he was a baby, and now there was nothing left of his brother. There was no soul, just demon blood coursing through him and providing the vaguest of emotions, just enough to taint Sam into thinking that that's all that he had. Sam had always had anger, but never had Dean known without a doubt that that anger had to be coming from somewhere else. He didn't have a soul after all, where else could it be coming from except for the blood inside him, and if it wasn't that…then that meant it was all Sam, and that was something he wasn't quite ready to deal with yet. Not when he was sharing his bed.

The morning after had been hard, especially after the first of the dreams, but he had gotten through it, because as long as Sam was happy, he didn't need to worry about that little problem. At first the feel of this Sam's hands on his skin sent a shiver of revulsion down his spin, he practically had to shut his eyes to get through it. Now though…it was getting easier. Sam still had to force the issue every time, his awkward means of seduction drawing him to bed, but Dean no longer put up resistance. Hell, sometimes he even actively participated. After they had ganked the asylum ghost he had even dropped to his knees like a whore in the graveyard, Sam's cock in his mouth as they reveled in their victory.

"Dean." The hunter practically jumped a foot in the air at the sound of the voice, twisting in the sheets as he scrambled to cover his waist. Seriously, did he ever knock!?

"Cas!" He exclaimed, looking around the room that he and Sam had all but wrecked last night. The mirror was busted, there were clothes everywhere, the nightstand was broken, and let's not even get started on the bed.

The angel was looking around, examining the room with careful calculations like he did everything. "Why does it smell like Vaseline and shame in here?" He asked dispassionately, and Dean sunk in the bed, covering his face as he thought he might die in shame. How could the angel just say shit like that?

"I got laid Cas…you might try it." He left it at that, never mind telling him just who had done the honors. "What are you doing here? We didn't call you."

"Where's Sam?" Castiel asked, completely ignoring the question. "I need to talk to the both of you." Dean was feeling more than a little exposed as the angel stared at him, eyes actually trailing down his naked chest.

Cas actually posed a good question though, where was his brother? He was used to not waking up to Sam, the man getting to restless in the morning hours to entertain the thought of holding Dean any longer, but he was usually still in the motel room, showering or eating breakfast. "I don't know." He answered honestly, eyes widening when Cas sank down into the bed next to him. "Cas, what the hell are you doing?" Not that he was exactly shy about his body, but he was buck naked underneath this sheet, and the angel was sitting awfully close to him.

"Waiting for Sam to get back." He said without emotion, looking at Dean as if he had sprouted another head for even asking. Honestly, he thought Castiel and Sam would get along swimmingly; they both had no sense about anything. "How is Sam? Has he adjusted yet?"

"To not having a soul?" Dean asked with almost alarmed cynicism, and at Cas's nod he actually shook his head. "No, I just don't think he's gotten used to it yet. …Maybe once he wears the feeling in like a new pair of jeans he'll be just okey dokey."

"Well that's good to hear." He really needed to teach him sarcasm. More importantly, he really needed to get up and get some clothes on before…

"What's good to hear?" Sam asked, walking through the door. Dean's breath immediately hitched as he took in the situation, eyes scanning over Dean's naked flesh, to where Cas was sitting only a hair's breath away. His voice had been calm, but Dean knew better. There was a madness in Sam's eyes now, hard to spot, but then again he knew everything about his brother.

"That you're not psychotic yet without your soul…I was sure you would be." Castiel replied, and Dean winced a little more.

"Thanks Cas, you're helping out a ton." He shook his head, before turning to Sam. "He just appeared right as I woke up. He said he wanted to talk to us." Sam walked further into the room, throwing down the keys as his eyes never left Dean's.

"Did he?" He asked, head tilting. "Convenient." His eyes held warning of punishment, and Dean's mind flashed to his dream as he shuttered, turning away. …It was a mistake. "Castiel, get off the bed and away from my naked brother…you're making him uncomfortable…and you're making me irritable."

Castiel turned to him, once more looking down his body. "You're naked?" Dean blushed and looked down, not even having to look up to see Sam's murderous gaze.

"Yeah dude…so maybe you should move to the other bed." Shrugging, Castiel got up, not sensing how the air in the room was practically suffocating. He paced to the other side of the room, striding past Sam who had eyes only for Dean.

"I think I may have found an Alpha, but I don't know if I should reveal the information. I do not like the idea of the two of you working for a demon." Sam scoffed, slinking down on the bed in the spot Castiel had just abandoned. Dean's skin was crawling to scoot away.

"As opposed to working for angels? Yeah that worked well in our favor." He said sarcastically, hand sliding underneath the sheet discretely as he did.

"Your anger is understandable, but trusting Crowley too much would be a grievous mistake." He replied, and Dean bit his lip to stop the gasp that wanted to escape his lip as Sam touched his thigh, squeezing it.

"We don't t-trust him." Dean said, voice trembling as Sam's hand circled around to the inside of his hip, practically making the quiver with need. "We need him, there's a difference. I would do anything to get Sam back to normal, even work for a fucktard like that."

"Aw thanks brother…I appreciate it." Sam cooed sarcastically, hand forcing Dean's legs apart as he did. They were both staring at Cas, and hopefully the angel was oblivious enough not to catch on. Dean had caught on a while ago though, and he knew for sure that Sam sure as hell didn't 'appreciate' that comment. Especially by how his hand squirmed to his fucked out entrance, his fingers not hesitating in pushing inside.

"Shit…" He couldn't help but whine, earning a small smirk from Sam and a glance from Cas. "Shit this is terrible." He covered with, turning to glare at Sam. "Being blackmailed by a demon and every…oh my god." His back arched as those fingers inside him twisted, his inside still warm and wet from last night. "Everything." He finally finished with, banging his head against the wall as he tightened his legs, trapping Sam's hand in his thighs and trying to get him to stop…it didn't work.

"I agree…it is terrible." Castiel raised an eyebrow. "Are you alright Dean? You look a little flushed."

"Fine." He croaked as Sam's skillful fingers found his prostrate, stroking at it. He was hard and aching by this point as he grabbed the pillow next to him, placing it over his lap and clenching it hard in his fists. "The A-alpha Cas…what about the Alpha?" His stomach muscles clenched as he practically bowed over.

"Castiel, my brother isn't feeling too well." Sam said impatiently, as if he were talking to a child. "Why don't you leave and come back later to discuss this Alpha business. Say…7:00?" He asked politely, but his eyes were cold as stone. Dean was practically incoherent at this point, Sam wouldn't let up on his assault, and if the angel didn't leave right now he was going to come despite of his presence.

"Yeah Cas…" He panted, face flushed and sweating. "Not feeling…not…not…" He couldn't finish as he fell forward, and not even Cas's obliviousness was great enough to mistake that for anything other than what it was. He couldn't see him, but he could almost feel the reproachful glare.

"You heard him angel, get the fuck out." Sam actually hissed this time, and Dean heard arguing above him, but honestly he couldn't even distinguish voices this time as he crouched in on himself, toes curling as he cried out, his orgasm about to hit him. …Which of course is the time the fingers withdrew.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean practically yelled, sitting up to yell at Sam, but stopped at what he saw. "Oh shit." Sam was shaking by this point, fingers rubbing together from the wetness inside of Dean. "Sammy…what the hell?" He tried to say calmly, doing everything in him now a days to keep Sam's anger at bay.

"What did I tell you about that angel?" His voice was steady like it always was, and yet Dean could have sworn his hazel eyes were specked with gold.

"He just appeared Sam, and what the hell was that? Do you want him to know we're fucking?" He growled, but once more regretted it when it caused Sam to pounce, forcing him further into the bed as he crawled on top of him.

"I want the world to know we're fucking." Sam growled darkly, leaning in to bite at his skin. "I'd mark up every inch of you, tattoo my name across you if you'd allow it. I'd cut out every eye that glanced at you, every tongue that spoke to you, and every dick that twitched because they desired you." He reached down, unbuttoning his jeans. "They can keep their noses though." He breathed, removing himself from his pants as he rubbed his hardness across Dean's thighs. "Because I want to cum so hard inside you that even humans will be able to smell my scent and know you're mine." And just what was a person supposed to say to that?

Apparently Sam didn't need a reply, because instead of waiting he pushed inside his already sloppy wet center, moaning at the apparent feeling of it. Dean held him while he began thrusting, his pleasure renewed at just feeling him inside. Sam whispered filthy endearments in his ear, and Dean turned away like he always did, imagining that it was really his Sam and now this robot replacement.

"I want to put his head on a spicket. His thoughts are only of you." His thoughts? Dean turned to glance at Sam, but as he thrust right up against his prostate the words died in his throat and turned into a groan.

His thrusts became harder, more desperate. "I want you every moment of the day like this." He kissed him, tongue thrusting mercilessly into his mouth. "We should stop hunting and you can just become my sex slave." He teased. "Would you like that baby? To have me inside you all the time?"

"Yeah Sammy." Dean breathed, not really knowing what he was agreeing to, but just needing for Sam to shut up.

"Of course you do." He reached between them, grabbing at Dean's swollen cock. "My good little whore." Dean cried out, coming between them as Sam thrust roughly, coming soon after.

Dean whined low in his throat as Sam pulled out of him, his hole rough and abused from serving to relieve his brother's frustrations. "That angel is going to lead us to an Alpha…that's the only reason I didn't kill him."

Sam rolled off him, getting up and zipping his pants back up. "Well there's that…" Dean said, ignoring the insanity spewing from his brother's lips. "Or there's the fact that you don't know how to kill an angel."

"I could find a way." He leaned in, kissing Dean. "I'm very productive when I put my mind to it." His hand trailed down his body. "Now why don't you go take a shower and we'll eat…and then we'll meet back up with that troublesome angel."

Dean turned over, rubbing his face in the pillow as he thought of the hopelessness of his situation. "Whatever you say Sammy."

~*~  
Dean pulled on his sleeve as they sat in the diner. He had called Castiel 20 minutes ago and asked if he could meet them there. He wasn't really all that surprised when he appeared next to him in the seat, but that didn't stop him from glancing around to see if any of the other patrons had seen. Thankfully, nobody looked their way.

"Nice to see you again Cas." He greeted, looking across him from where the angel had thankfully appeared near Sam. He didn't think he could handle another scene like this morning. He was surprised Castiel had even shown up at all. "Look, sorry about earlier, hope you didn't get the wrong impression."

"Impression?" Castiel asked, glancing first at Sam and then back to Dean. "Sam just said that you're stomach hurt and crudely mentioned that you needed to defecate…did something else happen?" Dean snorted, taking a drink of his coke. He must have missed that part of the conversation, though he supposed at that moment he did have three of his brother's fingers inside him, so as far as excuses went he supposed he had a good one.

"No no…that's exactly what happened." He said, glowering at Sam. "I just needed to poop. So tell us about this Alpha, Cas." Sam was smiling at him though, and he hated himself a little for the breath of warmth in his stomach. It looked so much like his old Sammy that he didn't stop himself from smiling back. Oh god…he had turned into a fawning lovesick teenager.

"It is a witch. The oldest one I have ever heard of." Fucking witches…he hated them, and an Alpha witch?

"Wait, is that even possible? Witches are just nasty skanks that pray to demons, how can there be an Alpha?" Castiel's eyebrows furrowed as he thought.

"I told you I didn't know if she was one, only that she was the oldest. She did a spell for immortality back when such things were possible, and in over 2000 years, as far as I can tell, she has not died."

"2000 years?" Dean asked, eyes wide. "Did he just say 2000 years?" He asked Sam. "As in Christ times?"

"Castiel's right, she could be an alpha." His eyes were far away as he planned, his forehead creased as he was in his own head.

"I'm going to hate this…I just know it." He complained. He didn't like normal witches, let only B.C. witches." He grumbled, taking another drink of his coke. "Alright Cas, where do we find this bitch, and how do we gank her?"


End file.
